The Maddening in the Blood of a Dead God
by PraeterMortalis
Summary: The human mind is weak and its strength is bound by determination. It can be stronger than the strongest steel and weaker than the flaking chip beneath your feet; and when the price paid in blood isn't enough, what remains?
1. Whiskey on the Rocks

**The Maddening in the Blood of a Dead God**

_Praetorian_

* * *

The blond grumbled as he slid into a seat at the bar, the leather along with the revolving chair creaking lightly under his weight. It had been a long, long time since the last time he had come here. He eyed the barkeep, a pretty attractive brunette; no doubt a shinobi.

She eyed him briefly, raising an eyebrow, then shook her head and returned to wiping the glass clean. "What can I get you boss?"

He found himself humming, a soft tune from the ages past. He paused, squared and with a small smile let it roll off his tongue. "Just some whiskey, no ice."

"Sure thing."

He went back to humming, and as his tune continued he could feel her chakra probe him. Maybe, later tonight, he'd find a way to go home with her, break the bed in-again.

A clack bought him back to reality as slender fingers posited a small glass quarter filled with amber. Pick your poison... nodded casually and took the glass. The amber reminded him of what he was before he became. The words were cryptic, he knew, but how else could you describe a transformation; a physical one, a permanent one. The Henge was an illusion, his version was physical but temporary, and then when the beast; fox, Kurama...the merging. To say it better, he was more man than boy, more sage than man, more eternal than mortal.

Naruto grimaced at the thought, the aged recognition of his implicit damnation.

Minato, the Yondaime, along with his mother-Kushina, both had wished him well, loved him dearly, and intended the best, though forced out of necessity, when it was sealed into him twelve years ago on that dreadful night. He was to be welcomed with pride, instead he met the face of the human condition.

The human mind is weak, its strength determined only by its capacity towards determination. It could be stronger than the strongest steel and as brittle as the flakes of concrete on an eroded wall. The wishes of heroes and kings were lost in the fear, loss, and grief of such a condition; against a thing where power was meaningless and the cost to lock it away was a price that could only be paid in blood.

It had happened after his second failure. There, in his abhorrence and destitution, he had made contact with the beast. There, in the annals of his mind, he had met his father and mother when his hand had glanced the gates. There, in the vast depths of despair, he had rejected; the human mind is weak. It hates far too easily and forgives too little.

He remembered in vivid detail the words of his parents. The pleas to his rationality as he palmed the gates. They were dead after all; chakra constructs and mementos to times past. He had denied them their final wish, how could he succeed: he was alone.

There, the beast, Kurama, too had palmed its paw against the gate and thus the circle would complete. It knew in both paths that this life would walk, that it could never escape. The binding of death made clear that their souls were tied, for were he, Naruto, to die, the monumentality would pass with him. It would reform, with time, but the memories accrued over eons would disperse and be forever lost-like fleeting mortality of all before it. The fear, the anger, the love, and the wisdom, would all vanish like the amber that once filled his glass.

Clack. He sighed, that was four years ago. A broken reflection stared back at him from the mirror on the wall. The sun-kissed hair of his had grown-though he had abandoned it in his grief and now silver-gray stared back at him. The combination of ocean blue eyes and silver gray hair gave him what he had desired. He was different and the memories that had poured with him added to that difference.

The chakra surrounding him ebbed and flowed and then shifted as another familiar signature settled in the seat next to him.

"Whiskey on the rocks," The soft voice spoke.

The barkeep nodded, reaching for another glass as she dropped in three jagged pieces of ice and decanted some whisky into the glass. Closing the bottle, she placed the glass on the bar and gave it a gentle tap. He watched as the tendrils of chakra left her finger tips and connected with the glass, the enhancement allowed the glass to glide, liquid perfectly idle within its scope, across the table and directly into the hands of his companion; his friend...

"What can I do for you," Naruto smiled, it had been some time since they last spoke and he was expecting it. After all, the Chuunin exams were soon to begin and some old guests were to partake in them. He had retired after he became, when his knowledge eclipsed his peers and his power vanished.

The case was simple of course, what Minato had set out to do, Naruto had accelerated it. Minato intended the shiki-fuin to purify, but from the volition of man, it instead transmuted. The price as always, was paid in blood.

"Hiruzen?"

* * *

_Prologue_


	2. Echo

**The Maddening in the Blood of a Dead God**

_Praetorian_

* * *

Sarutobi sighed as he thumbed the glass in his hand, slowly turning it and letting the alcohol move around as it washed over the ice. Despite his age, he was never sure where to start with the boy...man. The revelation from four years ago had nearly driven him mad; in fear, in shock, and in sadness. It was one thing for a jinchuuriki to be robbed of his childhood, as most were-as it was known to be. It was another thing for a jinchuuriki to be robbed of his mortality, matured in an instant, and then be forced to evolve, how he hated the word, into something completely different.

It was his idea of course, that Naruto dye his hair a different color. It was in the best interest of the village that any lingering thoughts of the Yondaime remain deep in their hearts and at best under the soil, where they had left them. A grown Naruto, the boy turned man in his primes, was a spitting reminder of the legacy that had ended too early, too quickly. A blunt recollection of terror and in equal parts, the truth of one's own actions against the human sacrifice.

Naruto then, at that day, had said nothing. The boy had instead nodded, accepted without second glance. To Sarutobi, it had been a nightmare. He had waited for rejection, anger, and many other emotions. Instead, he received acceptance, acknowledgement of fact, and greater understanding.

Ten thousand years. Minato's legacy had ended prematurely, but in its place a new one rooted itself. Memories, knowledge, passion, an amalgam of the greatest and worst things had poured into the boy when the two palms had met.

Next to him was Naruto, but at the same time, it was not. He wished himself in a dream, one that he hoped to not wake from, where young Naruto would come and beg him for Ramen and where he would in a grandfatherly way chide him for his loudness, pass onto him his wisdom, and then take the boy's tiny little hand in his and lovingly take him down to the stand.

But he could not. The sun rose in the east and set in the west. Trees grew, withered, and passed. To his right lay an eternal, and there remained little in his hands that he could offer.

"I was hoping for a favor." Sarutobi said firmly, he needed to keep himself together.

"Oh?" The blond asked with a raised eyebrow. "The professor needs a favor from little old me?"

Old, ha! Hiruzen would have laughed sarcastically were it not for his position, his age, and his presence. The thrum of chakra poured into the environment, loosely vibrating the air and warming it. The entire bar felt like home, his home; where he had grown under the watchful eyes of his parents. He was their caretaker and yet here he was, back as a child. He shook off the stray thoughts and continued. "Please. The exams are coming."

He paused briefly and then whispered out the remaining parts. "Orochimaru is likely to come, and the Tsuchikage will likely attend...as word as gotten out that a Yondaime look-a-like was spotted in our village four years ago. We did our best to hide it, but it somehow got out. Please."

Naruto chuckled at the request. It was such a simple question and the answer would for all time remain the same.

"Sure thing jiji."

He could never say no to his grandfather.

* * *

Kakashi glanced at the two kunoichi sitting across from him, watching as two friends discussed the latest and greatest in news. In more simpler terms, girl talk and gossip. Funny that, they never grew out of it, or maybe they're like him. He has his porn, they have their talks...it keeps them in the here, now; keeps them sane. He dismissed the thought and returned to his book, his cute orange book.

There was the lingering killing intent that floated in the air, passive radiation. It was common know, they didn't like his book-Jiraiya's book rather, but his nonetheless. His time in AnBu had served him well, and the experience on the field had strengthened his ability to dismiss the intent. Even if its passive, those are still two Jounin and its not specifically easy to be able to just shrug off something like that.

_Tomoko had just noticed Higashi as he had entered their home, she was in the kitchen, her mind lingering. She was nervous, it was the first time she would try something so daring, so risqué. She was naked, only wearing an apron, her backside open and the under bare. Anata..._

"Kakashi!" Kurenai called out, pulling the silver haired Jounin from his book. She was glaring harshly, the killing intent now spiking into active and a thin blush dotted her cheeks.

"Hmm?" The copy-cat intoned as he barely glanced above the sheets.

"You're reading out loud you fucker." Anko replied in Kurenai's stead. "I'm sure I could take you places, but 'nai-chan here is pure; hide your smut before I hide it for you."

"Anko!" Kurenai chided her friend and did her best to glare, but realized that the effort was for naught and simply grumbled into a mumble.

"Hnn, what was that?" Anko asked smuggly. "Is little 'nai-chan jealous?"

"Fuck you." Kurenai said bluntly.

"Oh you would like that wouldn't you?" Anko replied smoothly, eyes twinkling like magic, and then she cupped her breasts and pushed them together. "You'd love to motorboat these babies wouldn't you, then maybe taking your tongue an-"

"Not another word!" Kurenai cut her off with her hand covering Anko's mouth, her eyes large and beaming still. She herself was almost furious, that bitch had no tact, especially in front of a man like Kakashi. She swore that it was on purpose!

"And you! You're not allowed to imagine any of that any further!" She cried out indignantly as she pointed at the one-eyed man sitting across from her and Anko.

Kakashi raised the visible eyebrow and with an equal twinkle in his eye replied. "I don't need to. Some stories write themselves."

The spot he occupied turned into a cloud of smoke followed by a log as a kunai embedded itself till the hilt. He was gone from the lounge, along with him came the book. He couldn't wait to share his itsy bitsy knowledge with the Sannin when he returned, it would be inspirational to the man and if he was lucky, he'd be able to get a 5% cut from the Icha Icha IP.

"That son of a bitch!" The brunette said through her teeth, before quickly glancing at Anko who seemed to have a smile of her own. Snarling, she too disappeared into a puff of smoke.

Anko scoffed at the outcome and then lightly chuckled when she felt the wind in the air shift.

"You shouldn't tease her like that," the gruff voice called out from behind her as he made his way to the couch.

"Oh please. I can't believe that she can't see the obvious. Either she's dense or purposefully obtuse. There's no way nobody she can't see that we know." She put her other leg on top of hers as she leaned back into the couch pillow. "Though, you're lucky that the word is circulating only in the village if he found out about the affair, shit would fly south like yo' mamma's business." Turning her ahead, she eyed the silver haired man. "You really should make it clear to her before it becomes too dangerous."

"Dangerous for whom?" The man answered back.

"You damn well know for whom. Asuma can very easily hold a grudge, he has against the Saindame for god knows how many years. How long do you think you can keep this charade up eh? And what happens when he returns and he's told of the happenings? How will you handle it then?" Anko replied irritably. "And another thing, you're still a fucking brat; so don't be so coy about it."

Naruto chuckled at the words. "I'll keep that in mind Anko-san."

"No. Listen here. She's my best friend and while teasing her is fun, I need you to be serious about it. Its an affair no matter how you spin it. Whatever happened to you changed a lot of things, for you and for us. She took a big fucking risk when she did what she did and is only lucky because you're a special case. Even if she's a ninja and has had to do some vile shit in our line of work, there's a difference between work and everything else."

The man nodded.

"And while you don't have to differentiate anymore, the rest of us still do. You need to be straight with her. Asuma's gone for now, and probably will be for another few years until he's done with his training or whatever; but you letting things fly as they do, will give her false hope. She loves Asuma, I know she does, but she's a woman and women have their needs. In our line of work, we could die any day and you know that damn well. So she came to you, so she fucked you. That's what she wanted, the risk." Anko pinched the bridge of her noes as she found herself lecturing. "Fuck." Taking her legs off the couch and sitting up, she turned around and faced Naruto and looked him squarely in the eye. "Please, for my sake; draw the line before she falls. I think you're a brat, but a nice guy otherwise and I like our relationship. So for us both, don't fuck this up; I don't want to wake up every morning hating you. One person is enough in my life."

The silver haired man stood up and walked past Anko, his hand gliding through her hair and feeling the softness on his finger tips. She shivered and he watched with mild interest. Brown pupil-less eyes craned to look at his, blue; endless, the pupils vertical and thin. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

_Echo_


End file.
